All I Wanted Was A Rosebush
by dcat8888
Summary: I think the title speaks for itself


All I Wanted Was A Rosebush

by dcat

Notes – The story ideas you find in your local lawn and garden shop. Got my annuals planted yesterday and today it rained, so here's a new story!

OOOOO

"You know it was a pretty simple task McCormick, all I wanted was a rosebush," the Judge reiterated, as he made his way through the parking lot.

Mark followed behind him, having difficulty in trying to keep up to the older mans pace. "I heard you six times ago when you felt it necessary to tell the nurse I was trying to pick up.

"In that case should I tell you how much of an idiot you look like again?" Milt Hardcastle continued to pile on the insults. He spun around to take a quick top to bottom scan of his charge and shook his head at McCormick's dismal appearance.

McCormick stopped and held out his hands in front of himself, he had no defense. "Just keep racking it up Judge, this day has been hell since you sent me to pick that blasted Mr. Lincoln up anyway."

Before he turned to walk he answered, "Hey look sport, I know your day hasn't been all that great, but don't insult Mr. Lincoln okay?" Milt began to walk toward the Coyote. "One simple thing, that's all I asked you to do," Milt mumbled as he walked.

"It's a stupid rosebush Judge, big deal, I still don't get it, why was that particular one so doggone important? You've got like 300 rose variations already at the estate. I mean come on, we plant twenty new ones every spring, I don't get it, but no, it had to be that one. It was crazy. Just tell me why it had to be that one and not the one right in front of it?"

Milt whipped around and poked his finger in McCormick's chest. "I wanted THAT one, that specific one McCormick, that's why. I picked it out, told you where to find it, gave you specific instructions on just where I put it and the exact coding on the medal. I even gave you twenty extra bucks to buy it that I was planning on letting you keep once you got back with it, but now I want it all back, and I want MY Mr. Lincoln!" The Judge shouted at him.

He got the message loud and clear, Hardcastle was ticked off. Mark rubbed his chest gingerly once the Judge got through jabbing him. "I'm sorry," he crinkled up his face forlornly and hoped that Hardcastle would think his apology was sincere enough. The Judge didn't say anything, he just sort of waved and picked up his pace once again in the hospital parking lot. McCormick tried to follow behind, but he was moving at a much slower pace. "I really am, I promise I'll get you one tomorrow, can you slow down a little, please?"

For the third time, the Judge stopped and turned to face McCormick. He closed his eyes and repeated, "I wanted that SPECIFIC one McCormick, I picked it out myself. How many times do I need to tell you? There wasn't another one there I wanted. I didn't have my cash or my credit card with me, so I asked if they'd hold it for me and that tightwad Ned Terwiliger wouldn't set it aside for me. Then I tried to hide it and put if in a place no one else would find it, till I could shag you out of bed to get it. I WANTED THAT MR. LINCOLN!" He shouted one more time. "And you let Hilda Norquist get it, that old bat," the Judge shook his head in disgust. "How could you let that happen?"

McCormick dropped his head and immediately stuck his own foot in his mouth, "You could have just gone back yourself, you know, you didn't have to wake me up."

"Wake you UP? Are you kidding me, how could you sleep with that racket you called music was blaring, 'sides that it was going on ten in the morning."

"So I like to sleep to Springsteen, at least it's good music, not like that Dixieland stuff."

"Yeah, I've heard some of the lyrics of that so called good music you like McCormick," he paused and recalled a line he remembered and spoke it, "Sometimes it's like, someone took a knife baby edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my soul," he glared at McCormick, "You call that good? I call that scary, talking about cutting things up. It's nothing but trash, but then again, for a pirate like yourself, I can see you'd like that sort of thing, aye matey?" he threw in for good measure and gestured toward the patch McCormick was now sporting over his left eye.

"That's not funny Judge, I could have lost my eye sight," Mark noted. "And it's not what that song is about either, pirates, sheesh. Just because it's talking about a knife? Where do you come up with that?"

"You want to tell me what exactly happened on account of Mr. Lincoln? I only know about the armed robbery and drug deal gone awry, I'm a little sketchy on the rest of whatever happened over there and how you landed up in the ER?" They had arrived at the Coyote and Mark was all set to drive but Milt held out his hand and stopped him. "Give me the keys, I think you've had enough excitement for one day. "Sides, since you wrecked my truck, the least I can do is drive your car and hope that the same fate befalls it."

Mark cocked his head to the side, narrowed his eyes and relented by giving the Judge his keys. "Your truck isn't wrecked."

"Then what's it doing at the auto shop smart aleck?" Milt took his keys and slid in behind the wheel. It took Mark a few moments longer, letting his mood stew for an extra bit of time. He shook his head and finally got it.

"So?" Hardcastle prodded, as he started up the car.

"So what?" Mark replied, leaning his head back, in an effort to forget.

"How'd you get the patch?" Milt asked.

"I was trying to get a box of Rose Dust down for Mrs. Norquist, and I apparently was grabbing for the wrong box and she jabbed me in the side with her cane," he explained.

"That still doesn't explain the eye patch," the Judge responded.

"No, but it does explain the broken rib, the doctor said she must have hit it at just the right angle and snap, just like a pretzel."

"You have the worst luck of anyone I know kiddo," the Judge said.

"Tell me about it. I wasn't expecting to be jabbed or to have a rib broken, so I instinctively grabbed for the whatever box my hand was on, but apparently it wasn't secure enough and it fell, bounced off my head, exploded all over everything and I got dusted. Some of it got in my eye. It's still burning, but the ophthalmologist said that I'd be okay, he gave me some drops."

"Was that before or after that gash on your arm?"

"After," Mark said. "I didn't think it was all that deep, but the ER doc decided to stitch it up once he took a look at it."

"And how did that happen?"

McCormick sort of mumbled his way through the explanation, "I was looking at an axe."

"What? We don't need an axe McCormick. That is unless you want me to try it out on you? You know if you'd stick to things I ask you to do and not go wandering around in your own fantasy world, maybe this sort of stuff wouldn't happen to you."

"Judge, you're sounding like a broken record."

Milt relented for the moment and calmly asked, "Now why were you looking at an axe?"

He shrugged, "I never used an axe before."

"You know how stupid that sounds McCormick?"

"They had one of those demonstrations going on, you know, this lumberjack looking guy was doing all sorts of tricks and throws and some pretty cool looking stuff. You never know when you might need to know how to use an axe."

"Take a look around sport? There's not much call for lumberjacking in Southern California. And just because some yahoo puts on a red plaid shirt and grows a beard for a few days doesn't mean he's a lumberjack."

"Yeah, but you can split firewood with one or cut down a tree, you might want me to do that sometime."

"We don't have a fireplace and they have chainsaws for cutting down trees nowadays," Hardcastle said.

"You should have seen him tossing these suckers at a bull's eye Judge. It was pretty impressive."

"Are you trying to tell me this lumberjack fellow tossed an axe at you?"

"No, no, no, after he finished his demonstration he invited people to come up and look at the axes."

"Never play with sharp objects McCormick, didn't I ever tell you that before?"

"Probably, but when do I ever listen? Anyway, while I was looking at them, two teenagers decided to start a domino."

"I'll bite, what's a domino?"

"Yeah, you know, one person bumps into another and it's a big chain reaction? You wouldn't believe how many people are interested in axes Judge."

The Judge glanced over at him with a look of skepticism. 

"Seriously Judge, I bet about eight or nine of us were lined up there. So the guy next me was looking at the blade of the JX413 and then the domino hit, so he crashed into me and the axe blade he was looking at fell against my arm. I tell you something, that JX413 is pretty sharp," McCormick said with a bit of insightful discovery, looking at his bandaged arm. "We should probably consider getting one of those. They're on sale till next Friday, $19.99."

"Why didn't you just get out of there then and go to the ER?"

"Like a said, I didn't think it was that deep, and I still had to get your Mr. Lincoln. I found Terwiliger and he opened up his bathroom for me. I went to wash it out. And I wrapped a handkerchief around it and pulled down my shirt sleeve and went to get your rose bush."

"Then how'd you break your finger?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark held up his splinted finger and looked at it. "I told you this already. I came out of the bathroom and this little kid who was trying to get in, somehow managed to slam my finger in the door on his way in. It hurts like hell too. The little brat, couldn't wait ten more seconds for me to exit."

"That's how little kids are, you know?" Hardcastle said. "When they have to go, they have to go."

McCormick ignored his remark, "Then he comes flying out of there ten more seconds after that, and runs up to me and kicks me so hard in the shin that I think he took a chunk of my calf. I got a bruise there for sure."

"Next time will you just do exactly what I ask you to do, just that, nothing else, no side trips?" Hardcastle nearly begged him.

"I didn't know a trip to the flower and garden shop was going to be an injury-laden, crime-busting adventure. I was perfectly happy and content to enjoy my one day off in the last month, just laying around and listening to Bruce Springsteen, but no, you insisted that I go over to Terwiliger's and get that rosebush, which you still haven't told me the significance of that particular one yet. I mean, come on Judge, I think you could at least tell me the reason why that certain Mr. Lincoln was the one you just had to have. There were a dozen other's that looked exactly the same."

"Never mind why, you don't need to know why, but speaking of why's, why does my truck have a dented in bumper?" Hardcastle said.

"I thought you said you read the police report?" McCormick answered, but he didn't allow Milt to answer, "but you're getting ahead of yourself in the whole, 'Mark McCormick's afternoon adventure in the wonderful world of guns, roses and dope," McCormick sprayed his hands in front of himself, in a grand gesture of dramatic-ness.

"Fine, you were finally getting to the rosebush I think?" the Judge said, attempting to lead the witness.

"Let's see, I got cut from the axe, had my finger broken by a 7-year old, kicked in the shin by same 7-year old, broke a rib by a delightful old lady with an over-active cane, infected my eye with rose dust and now am finally heading down the aisle to find one crazy Judge a specific Mr. Lincoln rosebush."

Hardcastle interrupted. "How'd you get that lump on your forehead?"

"I'm glad you asked, I was just about getting to that. I'm now in the outdoor garden area and unbeknownst to me, young Richie Vargas, only working his second day at Terwiligers, is driving a forklift with an 8 year old maple tree, stump side sticking straight out. And as I was trying to figure out which way your particular rosebush was hiding out at, good old Richie Vargas drives said forklift complete with maple tree stump right into Mark's forehead. People told me it was like a one man joust."

"Are we getting anywhere near the robbery or the drug bust yet wise guy?"

"Not quite, but thanks for asking," McCormick said and continued with his shtick, "So I get up and brush myself off when lo and behold, your neighbor Tom Butterfield sees me on the ground, has a good laugh at my expense and gives me a hand and tells me he needs to show me the fertilizer he's going to try out on his lawn. He says, 'Hey Mark, you ought to get some of this for Hardcastle's lawn, since we both grow the same type of grass, it's the best stuff on the market.' I politely smile and follow him over to the fertilizer. He picks up a bag, which proceeds to break open, because I don't realize that he's intending to throw it at me as sort of a 'pass the fertilizer' game. Needless to say, Terwiliger is going to bill you for the bag," McCormick leaned toward the Judge and scratched his forearms. "The rash started about 45 minutes ago."

"You're spreading something pretty thick here pal, okay, I get it, you're allergic to the fertilizer?"

"Yep, the doc gave me some salve for it, but apparently it'll be red and itchy like this for about four days.

"Are we getting to the end of this yet?"

"Can I tell this or not?" McCormick asked. "This is my story remember?"

Hardcastle nodded with a grin.

"Now, I'm finally approaching the roses and already there is none other than Malibu rose queen herself, the expert extraordinaire, three time Malibu champion, Hilda Norquist. She's now moved from the rose dust aisle to the delightful rose bushes herself."

"That old bat drives me nuts, she wins the Rose Regalia every year. I still don't know how she does it. She's got to cheat, and one of these years I'm going to prove it. How'd she get the Mr. Lincoln away from you? Another jab to the ribs?"

"Well, apparently your hiding place wasn't very good. I started looking for it and she poked me in the behind with that cane of hers and held it up for me to see. 'Looking for this?' She asks me. 'Tell Milton to bring his cash along with him next time,' she says and then she laughed. I told her that you wanted that specific one and I even offered her an extra ten buck for it. She said no deal."

"And you just let her have it McCormick?"

"Not exactly, see that's when Mr. Terwiliger got robbed at gunpoint by John Henry and Travis. Those bimbo's tried the same thing all over again. Two times they held him up and got away with it, but not this time. They came sweeping past me and Mrs. Norquist grabbed her purse and kept on running to their car. Travis even turned around and fired off a couple of shots. I knocked Hilda over and she just missed taking one. Tom Butterfield wasn't so lucky."

"Well, the ER doc said he could go home tomorrow. The bullet didn't get any bone, and it went clear through his arm," Hardcastle said. "You're sure Hilda was all right?"

"Yeah, I helped her back up to her feet and dusted her and her lethal weapon of a cane off. Both she and Mr. Lincoln were just fine and then I took off after them in your truck."

"So where does the drug deal come into all this?"

"I'm almost there," McCormick replied. "Now, I'm chasing after these two and they drive into Washington Park, which I know there's only the one entrance, which also serves as the exit. These two bozos are really stupid. They keep zipping around the curve and I stop at the gate and tell the Park Manager to close the gate and call the cops, then I keep driving after John Henry and Travis. At the back of the park they finally figure out they're on a one-way street to nowhere and they're not going to get out, so they stop the car, get out and start to run. I pull up the truck right behind theirs and start to give chase. I caught Travis and see the black and white unit pull in front of John Henry so I start walking Travis back to where the truck is, when all of a sudden, here come even more cops, five units, the park looks like a war zone and then whammo, this green Chevy comes barreling around and slams into the back of your truck Judge."

"Let me guess, that was Ernest and Carlos and the drug deal gone bad?"

McCormick nodded, "They thought the cops were after them."

"And you had Travis' gun by this time?"

"Uh huh, when they saw me with the gun and with Travis they threw the smack out the car window at my feet, just as the first two black and white's were arriving. They thought he was part of the deal and that I was some undercover cop."

"You know the Chief is giving you two commendations for this?"

"That's what I heard," Mark said, leaning back and closing his eyes, wearing a look of total satisfaction. "What can I say, I have a real knack for this crime-busting."

"How come I wanted the rosebush and you mess it all up in every way possible, yet you still come out smelling, well like a rose?" Milt groused.

"Cute Judge, very cute," Mark grinned even though his eyes or eye remained closed to Hardcastle. "It would have only been better if you hadn't walked in on me asking that nurse out. If she'd have said yes, my day would have been perfect."

The Judge pulled past the familiar gate and on up to the house. Standing outside the house was none other than Mrs. Hilda Norquist.

"What the hell does she want?" Milt said as he drove up behind her car.

"Now, be nice, why don't we find out?" Mark said with a smile. "Hello Hilda, are you doing okay?" Mark asked politely.

She took a few steps toward him and gave him a big hug and even kissed his cheek. "I'm just fine Mark. The police just brought my purse back, nothing was missing. They said you recovered it and I wanted to thank you again."

Hardcastle stood back and watched as the old bat fussed over McCormick.

"Well, now I couldn't let anything happen to you or your purse now could I Hilda?" Mark played this one up to the hilt.

"You're so brave Mark and I wanted to give you this," she pulled out a crisp $100 bill and confidently put it in his hand. "A real hero, right here in the neighborhood."

Mark glanced over to Hardcastle and then back to Mrs. Norquist, "Hilda, I can't take your money. That wouldn't be right," he said, trying to hand it back to her.

"Nonsense, I know Milton doesn't pay you at all what you're worth, for all the work you do around here. All the ladies of the neighborhood and I believe that because of all your work, you two might just win the Rose Regalia this year. Believe me Mark, if you ever want a real job, come and see me, I'll give you a competitive wage. You put my gardener to shame." Mark soaked in the obvious admiration and compliment, taking a moment to glance over to Hardcastle who still hadn't said anything.

Hardcastle rolled his eyes and looked away.

McCormick decided it was time to come to Milt's defense. "The Judge treats me just fine Hilda, more than fine actually," Mark knew he had to stick up for Hardcastle, "but thank you for the offer and for the money. I'm just glad I was there."

She walked back to her car and opened the door and pulled something out. It was the Mr. Lincoln. She carried it over and handed it to Milt.

"What's this?" Hardcastle asked her.

"It's the Mr. Lincoln you wanted. When I got it home, I took a closer look at the medal."

Milt smiled. "You don't have to do this Hilda," he said.

"Yes I do, and you owe me $29.99 for it, plus tax," she said, walking back to her car. "Now explain to Mark why you wanted it, he deserves to know," she chided him. She got in her auto and drove off.

Mark walked over to where the Judge was standing holding the rosebush.

"All right, what gives? After all I've been through today, it's time for you to fess up Hardcase."

Milt nodded and said, "Follow me and bring a shovel."

McCormick went to the garage and grabbed a shovel and found Hardcastle out in the rose garden, standing by the centerpiece rosebush.

"This one here kiddo, is the original Mr. Lincoln," he paused, "my wife's first and very own prized rosebush."

"It's a beauty Judge," McCormick commented.

"She tried for years to come up with a cutting of it, you know to make her own variation and such, I don't even know what all is involved, but she understood it all," Milt explained. "And this one," he held out the Mr. Lincoln from Terwiliger's, "this one here is one of 'em, first one I've ever seen."

"And you could tell by the medal," McCormick said, finally piecing it all together.

"Yep, I knew her coding, and apparently Hilda Norquist knew it too."

"She is the rose champ Judge," McCormick paused, "Why didn't you just tell that to Mr. Terwiliger or me for that matter? We'd have both understood."

"'Cause it's just a silly rosebush McCormick that's why," he paused, and plucked the shovel from McCormick's hand. "Why don't you go inside and enjoy the rest of your day off, play your crazy music and whatnot? You've done enough for today, go on."

"I think I can find time to do one more thing, I mean what else could possibly go wrong?" McCormick grinned, and tried to take the shovel back, instead the Judge handed him the rosebush to hold. "Well where do you want this one?" he asked the Judge.

"I think here," the Judge said, then he changed his mind, "nope, here," he paused and spun around, "no, right here," he paused once more, with Mark right on his heals when the Judge swung around with the shovel at waist height and bam, he nailed McCormick with it."

Mark doubled over instantly and said in a strained voice, "On second thought, I've already been through this sort of mess once today, I'll let you handle this all by yourself, just like I should have early. See you later Judge."


End file.
